


watch the city burn

by rivkael



Series: the days after [6]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malfurion is doing his best, Stormwind is on fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkael/pseuds/rivkael
Summary: Malfurion smells smoke.So does Belath.





	watch the city burn

**Author's Note:**

> (Set during the rescuing of Talanji. They set so many fires in that mission, I always wondered what the kaldorei and gilnean refugees thought, that they were perhaps being chased by fire?)

Malfurion awakened to the smell of smoke. He scrambled upright, uncaring of his still tender shoulder. 

This drew a startled grunt from Illidan, who was hunched over in a corner of the room, wrapped in a thick duvet. “Malfurion-?” Evidently he had been asleep too. It was sometimes hard to tell.

“Illidan,” Malfurion gasped slowly. “Tell me you don’t smell fire.” 

Illidan’s face dropped into a snarl. “I cannot tell you that.” He rose to his hooves in a fluid movement, the blanket falling to the floor. “Coming?”

Malfurion nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hurrying to follow his brother out onto the balcony of the room they’d been given in the Keep. 

He breathed slowly, the sound of several distant explosions shattering the night. People were screaming and calling out for aid. There were fires on several separate rooftops. He looked to Illidan, saw how his brother’s gaze was drawn to the distant Mage Tower. “See to your people, go.” 

The hulking demon hunter nodded and leaped from the balcony. 

Malfurion watched his brother's dark shape go with anguish, eyes flickering between the different points of light across the city with helplessness. 

His shoulder was starting to burn and his head was heavy with the weight of antlers and grief. He gripped the stone railing, leaning his weight upon it with a sigh.

He hadn’t the strength to shapeshift, nor to walk that far. There was nothing he could do but watch as the city burned.

Was this Sylvanas’ grand plan? Put the Alliance capitals to the torch one by one, chasing the refugees from city to city until they were scattered and exhausted? It was a clever one, he noted. But actually-

Flashes of blue and white caught his attention. Around the cathedral area, where most of the fires burned. Fighting, perhaps? Maybe this was something else, not an invasion; he could see no fleet of ships in the harbor.

Malfurion knelt, leaning heavily against the stone barrier as he continued to watch the situation. Tyrande - he could see her light down in the fields, calming the refugees and protecting them from the sparks. 

Running footsteps- he half-turned, looking back into the room as an illidari burst through the door. Belath, who had recently been injured and had been staying in the Keep’s infirmary. 

His chest was heaving. “Lord- Illidan-...” 

Malfurion heaved himself up. “He went to assist the others, Belath,” he said gently as he began to make his way over. 

The demon hunter gave out a little sound, a whine perhaps, and sank down onto his knees. 

Malfurion reached him a moment later, and after a short hesitation, sat down beside him and reached out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Belath was shaking slightly and was warm to the touch. 

He shuddered at the touch and Malfurion pulled back for a moment, pausing as the whine came again. He sighed. “If you wish for me to touch you, you must tell me.” 

He scooted so that he could lean against the bedframe, still within reach of the distraught demon hunter. 

After a moment, Belath shuffled after him, crowding closer until he could tuck himself against the archdruid’s side, under his arm. Malfurion allowed this by lifting his arm up, but nothing more. He did not grip the younger elf at all, not wishing to spook him.

He hummed a few to himself for a few moments, before pitching lower and following the tune of a lullaby that Tyrande liked to sing to Shandris. 

Belath relaxed slowly, nuzzling his head- and horns- against Malfurion’s chest as he cuddled closer. 

They remained this way for a long time, the stone floor unforgiving beneath them. 

After an hour or so, there came the sound of hooves upon the balcony, and Malfurion sat up protectively. It was just Illidan, and his brother entered the room along with a strong waft of smoke.

“Belath?” He asked after a moment, and Malfurion had only a second to untangle himself from the demon hunter before he began to scramble over to Illidan.

The pair met mid-stride, Illidan easily sweeping Belath up protectively and carrying the blood elf to an armchair, where he sat. 

Malfurion stayed where he was, watching the pair. He could wait a few minutes to find out what had happened; Illidan wouldn’t have returned if the issue was ongoing. 

So he sat against the bed and watched his brother effortlessly soothe the young blood elf. Illidan may well have made a good parent, he considered.

A wave of guilt washed through him; Illidan believed himself too damaged to even consider starting a family of his own. He knew this. And it was Malfurion’s fault for not protecting his brother from the cruelties of the world.

But he stayed silent, letting the two have their moments of comfort. It was the least he could give them.


End file.
